


How Does it Feel to Feel Like You?

by lizifer



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Character Study, Eddie Kaspbrak in Love, Gen, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizifer/pseuds/lizifer
Summary: 1000ish words of Eddie Kaspbrak sitting in a backyard thinking about making choices (vaguely based off a couple times I have fallen in love with friends at parties in the wee hours of the morning), featuring Richie and Bev.There's a roar of laughter from inside the house, and a warm feeling wells up in Eddie's chest.His friends, his people, all together in one place, and they're sohappy. And Eddie, who has never felt quiterightin any other part of his life, slots into place with them so perfectly he can almost hear theclick.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	How Does it Feel to Feel Like You?

It's dark outside, so late that early is starting to talk about moving in, the stars sparkling high above him, the moon a tiny sliver. Eddie's not wearing his watch today, forgot it when getting ready this morning because he was so occupied with what to wear, what to say, what the others might say to him... and his phone is inside on Bev's kitchen table, so he doesn't know what time it is but he thinks this is what they call _the witching hour_.

It feels like a good name for it: here in the backyard, the night air feels almost watchful, alive and magical in a way that could be dangerous. Like, sure, you could have everything you ever dreamed of, right here and right now, and maybe that's more than you bargained for.

The back door creaks open, and Eddie looks over, snapping to attention. "Want to share?" Richie asks, holding up a joint and sitting down right beside Eddie on the little porch swing. Eddie can feel how warm he is, and resists the urge to lean closer.

Eddie thinks about it, then shakes his head. "I'm good," he says. They've all been drinking for hours now and he's reached a stage of pleasant floatiness that he's finding very comforting. He doesn't want to tip over some sort of edge now.

There's a roar of laughter from inside the house, and a warm feeling wells up in Eddie's chest.

His friends, his people, all together in one place, and they're so _happy_. And Eddie, who has never felt quite _right_ in any other part of his life, slots into place with them so perfectly he can almost hear the _click_.

Richie lights the joint, neck stretching a little, and Eddie watches the flare of warm light from the flame, the way the frames of Richie's glasses cast a shadow up his forehead, and he smiles as Richie inhales. "You okay?" Richie asks, slowly exhaling, stretching one arm out across the back of the swing behind Eddie's shoulders. "You're super quiet and it's kinda freaking me out." 

Richie turns his head to face Eddie properly, and Eddie shrugs. "Yeah," he says with a shrug. "I'm good. Just tired." Which is technically true. 

There's something Eddie's feeling that he's not quite sure about, but he holds that close, pulls on the ends of the knots. He'll untangle it, figure it out eventually. 

"Sure," Richie agrees, and he takes another hit, tilts head back to look up at the sky. 

Eddie looks away from the line of his neck, the way Richie's Adam's apple shifts. He's been divorced for four months, living on his own, and trying to decide what to do next. 

It's harder than he expected. It turns out, making decisions is a habit Eddie had never had the opportunity to build.

He's got hundreds of habits built into his daily routine, both good (go for a run, shower, brush and floss, stick to a sleep schedule) and bad (too much coffee, checking for weird moles, reading WebMD), but none of them have anything to do with planning his own future, making his own choices.

Right now, with the night crowded around him, open and hungry, it's almost overwhelming. He takes a shaky breath, and then feels Richie's big hand squeeze his shoulder. 

Eddie tugs on that knot again, and something pulls tight.

Richie's weirdly quiet too, smoking and not looking at Eddie. Eddie lets him be; it must be kind of exhausting to always need to have a funny story to tell, a joke, to have everyone look to you to be entertained. 

"I was meaning to tell you, man," Richie starts, looking down at his knees now, the cherry glow of the joint bouncing as he taps his fingers on his thigh. "I think... with the moving out on your own, it's good. I'm glad. You're happy, right?"

Eddie smiles automatically, and the natural response _almost_ comes spilling out of his mouth, the _of course_ , the _I'm fine, you?_

But it's not quite true. And the night gathered around them seems to insist on truth. Richie _deserves_ honesty.

He hasn't said anything yet and Richie looks at him again, brow starting to crumple in concern.

"I'm _thinking_ , stop worrying," Eddie snaps, and Richie laughs. And another loop of that tangle of feeling comes free.

Eddie takes a breath. "I mean... It's good. I'm figuring things out. It's different. But I'm going to be happy." He nods, and says it again. Twice for luck. "Yeah. I'm going to be happy."

Richie lets out a breath, and the arm behind Eddie's shoulders shifts. He ruffles Eddie's hair and Eddie swats at his hand, but he doesn't put any real effort into fighting back. "Good. No point spending all that money on a divorce lawyer to be miserable."

"Are _you_?" Eddie asks, and Richie raises an eyebrow. "Happy?"

Richie's face goes kind of still. "Of course--" he starts to answer, and then the door opens and Bev pokes her head out. "Ms. Marsh! Please get high with me, Eddie's no fun." 

The moment broken, Eddie lets the response slide, and makes room for Bev between them on the swing. The three of them barely fit. It's nice. "I'm fun," he protests, as Bev claims the joint from Richie.

Bev laughs. "He is," she agrees, leaning more on Eddie to face Richie. Richie doesn't look at them, but he's smiling too, and then Bev is demonstrating how to blow smoke rings because she's the coolest person they know, and Eddie wants to curl up in this moment and stay forever.

They're all laughing, and Richie sets the swing moving, rocking them all gently, and then he looks at Eddie.

His eyes are crinkled up, smile wide, and all at once that knot comes undone, and Eddie knows what the feeling is. 

It almost floods him, warmth and comfort and... home. It's what home should feel like. No wonder he didn't recognize it, unfamiliar in this form without the weight of obligation ( _love you, Ma. Love you, Myra_ ). 

Eddie swallows, grins back at Richie. _Click._ The settling into place. That sensation of things being _right_.

Bev sighs happily and closes her eyes. Richie squirms around to get more comfortable and does the same.

Eddie turns his gaze back to the stars.

He is going to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from You've Done it Again, Virginia by The National.
> 
> Thanks to Anne for reading this over!
> 
> If you want to have Reddie feelings with me I am on Tumblr at variousnightwoods or my fandom Twitter is lizthecatte!


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